The piano

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I can hear footsteps but I keep playing, I keep playing even though I'm not supposed to be in this empty school building playing the piano for practice. The footsteps get closer, I play louder I hear someone step in the room.

 "keep playing Ari," I tell myself I'ts just an audience, I play louder. Then I see him... peering over the piano. I keep going, He's not an adult, he probably won't tell? I say in my head, he lays his head down on the piano and closes his deep brown eyes and listens until I finish the song but when he opens his eyes I'm gone. I'm out the same window I came in and ran into the forest behind the school.

I know he's following me, I run faster I look back and see him behind me. He's almost caught up to me but before he knows it I'm up the tree. He runs smack into the tree and falls flat on his back. I'm trying not to laugh but know it's okay to when he burst out laughing himself, his laugh is pure and comforting, like birds on a sunny morning.

He abruptly stopped at the sound of a snapping of a twig "Bucky!" We heard a man call out from just outside the clearing we were in, the boys face instantly went serious and as a man staggered into the clearing. The boys his face was overtaken with fear.

He popped up from his spot on the ground and began to run. Before I could think better of it my legs made the jump out of the tree and began to run after this kid, I felt like I had to protect him, I felt like I had to protect him like I have known him all my life.

The man was obviously drunk and was swaying as ran after this young boy and all while I was trying to find out why. I finally catch up with him and he's doubled over from running so fast for so long, I can tell he can't run anymore, I can tell he's exhausted.

 The drunk man is getting closer, I look around and see the perfect hiding tree, I quickly grab his arm and pull him to the tree, then I simply stated "Climb" he does as I say. I climb up after him and we both manage to pull out of site as the man comes into the area of the tree, he leans on the tree that we are in.

"Where is that blasted son of mine"

My friend James BuchananWhere stories live. Discover now